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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718558">falling overboard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chierei/pseuds/Chierei'>Chierei</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Summer of Smut [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Angst, Dubious Consent, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:07:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,902</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chierei/pseuds/Chierei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew he shouldn’t—knew he should shove Ed away and try to lock him into a room so he could call someone else to help him, but he was weak. And if what Ivy said was true, time was of the essence.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Summer of Smut [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787152</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>falling overboard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heed the tags, lovelies. </p><p>This was written for the <a href="https://discord.gg/bSs9enA">Nygmobblepot 18+ Discord</a>'s Summer of Smut Event! From June 14 to July 18, various writers and artists will be posting their smutty, delicious works, each centered around a different theme/prompt. My chosen theme was <i>sex pollen</i>!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He knew he shouldn’t—knew he should shove Ed away and try to lock him into a room so he could call someone else to help him, but he was weak. And if what Ivy said was true, time was of the essence.</p><p>
  <em>(Or was it? Ivy ivy ivy ivy with her sweet perfumes and painted lips and still so long and so naive and innocent really and she didn’t know what she was doing not really but Ed might die and Ed might hate him and Oswald is trying so hard and—)</em>
</p><p>Oswald closed his eyes into the kiss, arching up to rub himself against Ed.</p><p>Ed growled into the kiss, lips frantically moving against Oswald’s as his hands practically ripped Oswald’s shirt off.</p><p>Oswald winced at the sound of tearing fabric, glad that he had already removed his suit jacket to save it from Ed’s half-manic pawing. He knew Ed would hate him when he came back to his senses—knew that Ed’s desperate touching and kissing was just a manifestation of whatever Ivy had doused him with.</p><p>So he didn’t fight when Ed pulled his pants down, underwear and all, in one swift move, or when his hands grabbed at his ass, squeezing as he sucked a bruise into Oswald's neck. He flinched, unable to stop himself, when Ed’s fingers quested lower, pressing against his dry entrance.</p><p>“Ed,” Oswald said, breathless as he tried to push Ed away.</p><p>Ed just snarled, pinning one of Oswald’s hands to the mattress as he kissed him, rolling his still clothed hips against Oswald’s half-hard cock.</p><p>Oswald could feel the hard press of Ed’s erection through the clothing, and it made his breath quicken in shame and excitement. Oswald rubbed his thigh against it, pressing hard, and making Ed pull away long enough to groan.</p><p>Oswald twisted his wristed, taking advantage of Ed’s distraction to flip them over. He pinned Ed to the bed as best he could, leaning as much of his weight onto his hips as he wrapped his good leg around Ed’s calf to lock him into place.</p><p>Ed bared his teeth, trying to buck him off, and Oswald leaned down to kiss him, soothe him.</p><p>“Shh,” Oswald said, trying his best to distract Ed as he tried to reach over into his bedside. He pulled out the half-used bottle of lubricant along with the long, slim green dildo he kept there for his personal use. It wasn’t nearly as thick or as long as Ed, but Oswald knew he would have to prepare himself as best he could before Ed overpowered him. He knew it would hurt either way.</p><p>He kept Ed distracted, trailing kisses down his neck and palming him through his pants while he hastily covered three of his fingers with lubricant. He slipped the first one into him easily, glad that he was used to the stretch to not even wince. He hurried to add in a second finger, biting his lip at the pain but not allowing himself to wait. There was no time.</p><p>Ed was getting more and more impatient with every passing second, and no amount of coaxing or soothing whispers would keep him down for long. If Oswald had more time, if he’d been given warning except Ed being shoved at him, already half-delirious—he might have been able to prepare restraints, but it was far too late for that.</p><p>He groaned into Ed’s mouth when he slipped in the slim toy, thrusting it in and out a few times, trying to push past his instinct to clench and tense.</p><p>His time was up too soon.</p><p>Ed growled again, pupils blown so wide and desperate, and he flipped them over, manhandling Oswald onto his front.</p><p>Oswald squeaked when he felt the toy pulled from him, and he tried to twist himself around, only to be stopped by Ed’s hand, pressing the back of his head into the mattress. “Ed,” he whimpered, struggling only lightly against the hold. “The lubricant,” he tried to plead, but he knew Ed was too far gone to understand him.</p><p>Ed ignored him, and Oswald heard the sound of a zipper being undone, He barely managed to reach around, and hastily wipe the remainder of the lube from his hand over Ed’s length—hard and hot under his fingers—before Ed pinned his hands down with a snarl.</p><p>Oswald screamed into the mattress when he felt Ed breach him, the hot press of his cock spreading him open and making his entire body tense. The preparation and lubricant weren’t enough to dull the pain—not when Oswald hadn’t ever had anything as big as Ed in him. It stung—felt like he was being torn into two—the feeling of Ed pressing himself deep inside Oswald.</p><p>A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye as Ed continued on, unmindful of Oswald’s pain, until he was fully sheathed. Oswald could feel the roughness of Ed’s pants hit his backside, and he barely had a moment of respite before Ed pulled back.</p><p>Oswald was given one glorious moment of relief before Ed snapped his hips forward, slamming into Oswald’s body at full force.</p><p>Oswald muffled another scream, clenching at the sheets and biting his bottom lip as he tried to force himself to relax through the pain. This wasn’t how he had ever imagined his first time. Once—or more than once, if he was being honest—he had pictured it with Ed, soft and slow, with Ed coaxing him open with his long fingers as he kissed Oswald. Ed would be gentle as he pushed into Oswald for the first time, whispering praises into his ear as he thrust in and out, fingers wrapped around Oswald until they came, together.</p><p>This was nothing like that. This was Ed using his body as a means of relief, full of animalistic grunts as he plowed in and out Oswald’s body with a single minded-focus to his own satisfaction.</p><p>Oswald knew it wasn’t Ed’s fault—that if this was anyone’s fault, it was Ivy’s. And Oswald had known what was going to happen, had pulled Ed into the bedroom of his own free will, had known it wasn’t going to be like his fantasies.</p><p>Part of him said he was doing this for Ed, but he knew he was also doing this for himself. Because this was the only way he was ever going to have Ed—rough and painful and only when Ed himself had no other option. And even then, Oswald couldn’t be sure that Ed wouldn’t have rather died than sleep with Oswald.</p><p>Another tear leaked out from the corner of his eye, and it wasn’t from the pain.</p><p>Oswald had long gone soft, focusing on breathing in and out as Ed fucked him in long, fast strokes. He knew Ed was close. His breathing quickened, and his hips snapped forward with more violence with each passing second.</p><p>Ed growled, low, and Oswald cried out when he bit down on Oswald’s shoulder as he came, the warmth and wetness blooming deep inside Oswald. Even with the pain, Oswald couldn’t help but moan, the primal part of him enjoying the idea of Ed marking him from the inside.</p><p>Oswald wondered if that was it—if that was all it would take for Ed to come back to his own mind.</p><p>It wasn’t.</p><p>Ed pulled out, and Oswald whimpered at the feeling of being suddenly empty. He could feel his body instinctively clench, and he winced at the sting of Ed’s come against what was probably torn flesh.</p><p>Oswald didn’t resist when two hands pulled at his shoulders, flipping him over on his back. Oswald gave a small cry at the crush of his ankle, caught in the transition briefly, and he tried to focus on that pain instead—that familiar, almost welcoming, pain.</p><p>Ed’s eyes were still glowing an almost fluorescent green, and he hitched Oswald’s legs up to his shoulders as he lifted Oswald’s backside up with both hands.</p><p>Oswald had a moment to look at Ed’s still very hard cock, jutting forward and almost purple at the tip, covered in semen and a tinge of blood, before Ed pushed back inside him.</p><p>It still hurt, but less so now—Oswald’s body slowly adapting to the stretch of another man inside him. Or maybe he was just getting used to it.</p><p>Ed fucked him with little finesse, forcing Oswald’s body this way and that as he plunged in and out of him. After his third orgasm, coming again inside Oswald, enough of him must have returned to be aware of more than just seeking out his next orgasm.</p><p>Ed threw off the rest of his clothing, only half-hanging from his body, as he bent Oswald over from his hands and knees and slipped back inside. But this time, he wrapped his fingers around Oswald’s flaccid cock, stroking it roughly in time with his thrusts. It was just enough to make Oswald stir, to moan softly into the sensation as he tried to focus on that.</p><p>“Oswald.”</p><p>Oswald jerked at the sound of Ed’s voice, and he shot a glance over his shoulder.</p><p>Ed was still manic, eyes glazed. “Oswald,” he said, and it was almost like a prayer, fervent and low and desperate. “Oswald. So good for me. So good, so good and mine and mine.” Ed forced Oswald’s face into a kiss, lips and teeth and tongue.</p><p>Oswald held back a sob and kissed him back.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Oswald didn’t know how long it went on for. He had stopped counting the number of times Ed came—inside him, on him, around him—and the curtains blocked out most of the outside light. It could have been hours or days for all Oswald knew. Oswald was barely conscious, half-mad out of exhaustion and covered in bruises—when Ed came for the final time, hips stuttering to a halt. He pulled out of Oswald, who didn’t have the energy to wince at the feeling of come gushing down his thighs, and fell back against the bed.</p><p>And he was out.</p><p>Oswald knew he should leave—crawl himself to the bathroom to clean and change, but he was too exhausted to care. He fell into a restless sleep next to Ed, curled into a small ball under the stained sheets.</p><p>It smelled like Ed.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Ed woke up and knew something was wrong immediately. The sheets were too soft, the light was coming from the wrong angle, and his entire body ached. Every muscle in his body was sore as if he had run a marathon and then decided to try and bench press the Batman.</p><p>And the smell—it was a far cry from the usual smell of dust and old books of his hideout. Instead, it smelled so heavily of sex that he wrinkled his nose even before his eyes opened.</p><p>And when he did open his eyes, he wished he could close them again.</p><p>Oswald was next to him, naked and covered in bruises, and Ed must have made a sound because Oswald’s eyes were opening, groggy from half-sleep.</p><p>“Ed?” Oswald said blearily as though confused. And then his eyes snapped up, and he tried to sit up. He looked around him and fished for the blanket, bringing it up to his chest in an attempt to preserve some sort of modesty, but there was no hiding his guilt.</p><p>Ed was a genius, but it didn’t take a genius to read all the signs around them.</p><p>Oswald was covered in multiple bruises and bite marks, both of them were naked in a room that smelled of sex, and Ed had a headache and shivers, the telltale signs of coming down from some high.</p><p>“Are you okay, Ed?” Oswald asked, reaching out a hand as though to touch him but then stopping short.</p><p>“What did you do, Oswald?” Ed said through gritted teeth, because this had to be some ploy of Oswald—some way that he tricked him.</p><p>Oswald flinched, only confirming Ed’s suspicions. “Ivy dosed you with something—one of her experimental perfumes. It made you...crave sexual release.” Oswald shuffled and winced, wrapping the sheets as best as he could around him. There was a dark red smudge on it. “She made it clear that you needed to have sexual intercourse with someone; otherwise, it would be…detrimental to your health. Potentially fatal.”</p><p>“And I’m sure that no one else was available other than <em>you</em>?” Ed sneered.</p><p>Oswald straightened himself up, looking as dignified as he could while naked and bruised. “Ivy made it clear that the effects were time-sensitive,” he said, looking Ed in the eye. “I didn’t know how long you had until her concoction would have a permanent effect. I figured you’d prefer having sex with me over dying.”</p><p>Ed scowled. “Don’t be so sure,” he said, knowing his words were unnecessarily cruel.</p><p>Oswald huffed, lips pressed into a thin line as he tilted his head as though to look down at Ed. “I saved your life, Ed. You could be a little grateful.”</p><p>Ed thought he could see the shimmer of potential tears but looked away before he could confirm it. “Yes,” he bit back, “and I’m sure you got nothing you didn’t want out of it.”</p><p>Oswald stiffened. “Believe whatever you want, Ed.”</p><p>Ed huffed, and he looked around for his clothing. He spied his suit sprawled on the floor, and he winced when he shifted, intent on getting up and dressed and as far away from Oswald as possible. “I’m sure you did whatever you wanted,” he said, wanting to dig in the knife deeper.</p><p>Fuck, everything hurt. He forced himself up and out of the bed, and he gathered up his clothing with as much haste as he could under Oswald’s gaze. He shucked on his pants as fast as he could, not bothering to find his underwear, and threw his ruined button up. He grabbed his suit coat and was halfway out the door within minutes.</p><p>Oswald hadn’t moved from his perch on the bed, and Ed didn’t care.</p><p>He needed to get out of here.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Oswald managed to wait until he heard his front door slam close before he broke down. He had <em>known</em>. He had known, but part of him had still hoped that Ed wouldn’t hate him. But maybe he deserved some of that hate—Oswald had consented, but Ed hadn’t. Yes, he had been incapacitated, but in the end, Oswald was the one who had been the willing party of the two. He had maybe hoped, in the back of his mind, that Ed would be grateful and perhaps, even a smaller amount, kind.</p><p>The tears came unbidden, and his shoulders heaved as he tried to suppress a sob. His entire body hurt. Every muscle ached with every move, and he could feel the pain of multiple bruises covering his back and legs. He could feel the sharp sting of a half-dozen bites over his shoulders, his hips, his ass, his thighs from where Ed had gotten ahold of him. And his entrance was sore, every movement sending a spark of pain through him. The sheets were scattered and covered in semen around him, the occasional spots of blood only confirming what Oswald already knew.</p><p>He knew he should go to the doctor—get his wounds looked at, but everything hurt too much for him to care.</p><p>Oswald curled back onto the bed and cried himself to exhaustion before falling back into a restless sleep.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It took Ed two days before he could move without his entire body protesting. He had stumbled his way back to his hideout, tossing his clothes into the trash before throwing himself into the shower. His own body was amazingly free of wounds other than the sharp sting of scratches down his back. Mostly his muscles just hurt, sore from overuse—the kind of overuse that made Ed feel both angry and aroused.</p><p>And he was angry at Oswald. He had every right to be angry at Oswald—he had been drugged, and Oswald had taken the opportunity to—to—<em>use</em> him for his own purposes. He should feel violated knowing that Oswald had taken him to bed.</p><p>But every time the thought crossed his mind, the image of Oswald, tucked half-covered behind dirty sheets and covered in bites and bruises and the smear of blood over the white sheets made Ed feel nothing but guilt.</p><p><em>No</em>!</p><p>He was the victim here, not Oswald. Oswald who still held a torch for Ed despite the years and strained friendship between them—Oswald who had taken the chance when Ed was drugged to pull him into his bedroom and—and—</p><p>Allowed Ed to fuck him.</p><p>Ed pressed his head against the cold tile and breathed.</p><p>Oswald had allowed Ed to fuck him, allowed him to bite and press and take and take and left him covered in bruises and wounds and blood and leaving Ed himself with nothing more than sore muscles and a few scratches.</p><p>No. He wouldn’t feel sorry for Oswald. Oswald had a choice, which was more than whatever Ed had. Oswald had chosen this. Had chosen to allow Ed to—to—</p><p>Hurt him.</p><p>Ed squeezed his eyes shut.</p><p>No. No. This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t.</p><p>It wasn’t.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading my darlings! I hope everyone is prepared for naughty, smutty summer. We have a bunch of amazing writers participating to keep you guys stocked for the season. (Are you a writer who isn't in the Discord and want to participate last minute? Find me on <a href="https://chierei.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> to chat!)</p><p>If you enjoyed, please take a moment to drop a comment to let me know! Every comment means so much to me and help keeps me motivated. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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